The Rueful Death of Miss D Meadowes
by MentalSarcasm
Summary: Dorcas Meadowes was personally killed by Lord Voldemort. This is a short fic exploring why, and who her final thoughts were of. Contains minor/mild references to torture and romance.


Basically I play Dorcas Meadowes on two different Marauders-era Harry Potter boards. In the books all that is known about Dorcas Meadowes is that she was a member of the original Order of the Phoenix and that she was personally killed by Voldemort some time before Lily and James died.

I'm going to have to kill her off on these boards eventually so I decided to write a short fic about her death. On both boards I'm on she has history/a future with Sirius Black hence his inclusion in this little fic.

I also figured that she must have done something pretty insane to be personally killed by Voldemort, and opted for spitting on him After hours of torture I don't think she was thinking straight XD

I apologise for any spelling and grammar mistakes. Harry Potter and all it's characters are owned by JK Rowling. I am not making any money out of this fic, please do not sue me.

**The Rueful Death Of Miss D. Meadowes**

Who would have thought that one who had once been terrified of death would one day be close to begging for it? Of course it may some as a surprise to some that the young woman had any fears in the first place. She had been a Gryffindor, the house for the brave of heart. The risk takers, the daring. Who touched fire even though they knew it would burn and then laughed at the scars they got afterwards. Who ran headfirst in to danger with little regard for personal safety. Who clearly lived their lives to its fullest every day, going to bed at night with the occasional shameful experience and enough stories and memories to last a lifetime, the sort of stories you wished your grandparents told. Sadly quite a few Gryffindors never lived to become grandparents. A few never even managed to become parents.

And now Dorcas Meadowes would become one of those unfortunate Gryffindors to die before she could have children. Actually for a while falling pregnant had been one of those fears. As had being placed under the Imperius curse. And dying. Those had been her big three. She had never wanted children, not at first anyway. Recently things had been different, occasionally she had found herself looking at children in the park and wondering...yeah, like that was actually going to happen now. There were going to be a lot of things she couldn't do now. Get married, have children, oversee play dates with Lily and Alice's children, see her children go to Hogwarts and become Gryffindors. It was a list of regrets that had grown exponentially over the past hours. Had it been hours? Or days? She had lost all concept of time in this room that had no windows, the only light coming from candles. She had passed out at least twice when the pain became too much but she didn't know how long she had been unconscious for each time.

Actually she was surprised that she had only passed out twice. Was she sure it hadn't been more than that? She had no idea how she was retaining consciousness right now. It had got to the point where her own body was torturing itself. Her arms, held up uncomfortably by magical chains, were aching at her shoulders, elbows, and her wrists where the metal had rubbed repeatedly against the skin. Her throat burned after screaming so much, her lips were sore from biting down on them in a vain attempt to not scream. Her chest throbbed every time she inhaled and exhaled, her feet and legs ached painfully from being forced to stand for so long. And then as a background to that was the pain in her muscles, in her veins, deep inside her bones, the pain that came from hours of torture with the cruciatus curse.

They had broken her body, even if she was saved she was sure she was going to be in pain for the rest of her life. Healing could only do so much and this was Dark magic, if she lived would it be a life worth living? Or would she be confined to St Mungo's for the rest of her life? But at least they hadn't broken her completely. She had kept her mouth shut. They had managed to get swears and curses out of her, and long minutes of agonising screams. But she hadn't said a single word in response to what they asked her. She hadn't answered a single question. They had got nothing out of her.

How had this even started? This morning? If it was less than twenty four hours then yes it had been that morning. He had woken her up with a kiss, a remarkably gentle one considering neither of them had been pretty gentle with each other the night before. And they had managed to get through breakfast without bickering for once. She had been stunned at the time, mentioned it to him and stated that it was clearly a sign of the apocalypse. He'd laughed said that if they weren't careful they'd be picking out china patterns and looking at engagement rings and trying to work out whether they would raise the children in the city or should move out to the country. And she'd punched his arm and told him that of course they would move out to the country to raise the children, she was hardly going to let her babies grow up in a place with no fresh air. He'd grabbed her and kissed her again, he'd tasted like coffee and the strawberry jam he had put on his toast that morning, and then they had noticed the time and realised they were both running late. It had been a small dream, for a few minutes. She wished she could have lived it out, a whole life with him. Although how likely was that life when they had never even said "I love you" to each other?

He had been the target of some of their questions. Where was he? How was he helping the Potters? Was he their secret keeper, was he protecting the Blood Traitor Potter, the Mudblood Evans, and their bastard offspring? She hadn't said a word. As soon as they had mentioned his name she had felt her heart skip a beat in panic, terrified that they would capture him too, that they would torture him too. She couldn't bear the thought of them torturing someone she loved...and in that second she had realised it. She loved him. She loved him completely, with all her heart, her body, her soul. The knowledge that they would do to him what they had done to her had only encouraged her to keep her mouth shut.

She was in so much pain. Her legs couldn't hold her up anymore but her arms certainly couldn't support her weight either. It slipped out as the smallest of whispers, the one crumb of comfort she would allow herself.

"...Sirius..."

She felt the thin fingers grasp her chin and lift her head up, her neck muscles screamed in pain but she didn't even wince. She was far beyond that now. She had nothing left to give or say, all she wanted now was death, and peace. She opened her eyes and looked at the face before her, a face that was being moulded by Dark magic so that it was something other than human.

"What was that?"

That had been a name she would never say again. She hoped he was somewhere safe. She hoped they hadn't captured him too. She was ready to die now. She was in so much pain, death would be a welcome release. She was no longer scared of it. She welcomed it.

"You said something. What was it?"

All she could do was smile slightly. Her mouth was dry after hours of screaming and nothing to drink, but she managed to find a little moisture and before she could stop herself she lifted her head a little higher and spat in Voldemort's face. She felt the silence echo around the room, the Deatheaters that had been watching and helping her torture were stunned, so stunned that now they were barely breathing. The face in front of her stayed completely frozen, there was no sign that he was shocked or surprised by what she had done. Instead he let go of her chin, her head flopping back down uselessly as she had no strength to hold it up anymore, and then stepped away.

Even if they could never tell Sirius that her last thoughts had been of him, that she had died with her love for him burning her heart like a forest fire, they could at least tell Sirius and the Order that she had spat defiance at Lord Voldemort, literally. Actually they probably wouldn't tell anyone that, not unless one of the Order spies was watching. It would be too shameful. But as Voldemort turned and walked back a few feet she knew at least that they would be told she had personally been killed by him. That had to count for something at least. She hoped that one of them would figure out what she had done, Sirius probably would.

She wouldn't cry. Her eyes burned with unshed tears but she wouldn't cry. She loved Sirius, the fact that she had never told him that wasn't something to cry about. The fact that she had never heard those words from him either was probably something to cry about but she forced the tears back. He loved her, she was certain of that. It wasn't something that had ever needed words. The sun shone in the sky every day, grass was green, she loved Sirius Black, it was...normal, natural. She wasn't scared any more. She was in too much pain to be scared of anything. But as the green light rushed towards her one small tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.

She would have given anything in the world to hear those words from him.


End file.
